Tuesday, 8 March 2011

Poem 35- Plastic Crockery

Plastic Crockery

I set four plates
But there are three of us now
I wait for you to come home
But you don’t
I wait for someone to interrupt me
When I’m talking about my day
But there is complete silence
This absence of you
This hollow place
This plate is a symbol
Of the life we once had
And your non-existence
In the new one I create

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